


Baking Is Serious Business: Operation Snack Grab

by StonyAvengerGirl16 (CharmedBritannia)



Series: A Life of Stiles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baking, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I have no excuse for this, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Sorry Not Sorry, Stiles Bakes, This is ridiculous, pastry thieves, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4649016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharmedBritannia/pseuds/StonyAvengerGirl16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since the Christmas Chaos of '04, Stiles has kept the kitchen locked down while he cooked, and <em>especially</em> when he baked. But four brave souls, led by Scott, are going to nab some of those cooling treats no matter the cost. Others may say they're overreacting. </p><p>But baking is <em>serious</em> business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baking Is Serious Business: Operation Snack Grab

\------

"Scott."

"Yes, Derek?"

"What are you doing."

"You know, this is where Stiles would normally make a snip about your 'lack of a question mark'-"

_"Scott."_

 

Scott McCall groaned low in his throat and pulled Derek Hale down to his level by the front of his Henley. Before Derek could bite his hand off for touching/ manhandling him, he shushed him.

 

"Look. You don't really like me, and I don't really like you. But I swear, if you ruin Operation Snack Grab, I _will_ cockblock you to the best of my ability. I have _ways."_

 

For a moment neither of them moved, or even breathed. Derek rolled his eyes, and wondered how the hell he got roped into these things.

 

"You know what? Fine. What the hell is 'Operation Snack Grab', and why are you crouched behind the balcony?"

"Stiles is baking today. I know it. Jackson is tailing him through the store, giving me regular updates, and Isaac is positioned in the pantry. I am up here for a clear vantage point."

"Wait? Stiles is baking today?"

 

Scott smirked. He knew that Derek had been won over by his friend's superior skills. Ever since that one dinner, he had made sure that Stiles had a _very generous_ food budget. It all worked out. Stiles loved to cook, and they loved to eat his cooking. And he was damn certain that anything he baked containing chocolate brought ol' Sourwolf to his _knees._

 

A small vibration was heard, and he fished out his phone, nodded, and scribbled down more notes on his clipboard (Derek didn't know where or when he got it), and stuck the pen back behind his ear. Derek looked over at the paper, and his eyes widened.

 

"Mother of all things holy..."

"Yup. These are all things he's picking up. Tonight's movie night with Lydia, Cora, and him, and its his turn to provide snacks."

"Wait, why-"

"Because he relates to them on a deeper level. He claims we have to much testosterone to understand their rituals, and so we've been forbidden to attend."

"But he's a-"

"Yup. But really, its not awesome, anyway. I went once, and they just complained about their professors, drank wine, ate snacks, and argued over which superhero looked better in costume. He fiercely argued Hal Jordan over Barry Allen and I almost choked." 

 

This new information was filed away in the ever growing mental database labeled 'Stiles'; specifically the 'friends and acquaintances' folder. And maybe the 'dirty' folder, but he didn't really want to delve into that folder right now. 

 

Back to the clipboard.

 

_6 bags of chocolate chips_

_*4 reg._

_*2 white_

_Sugar (reg. and powdered)_

_Caramel_

_Various Oreo types/flavors_

_cream cheese_

_graham crackers_

_various fruits_

_paper baking cups_

 

Scott assessed the list, and his eyes widened.

 

"Shit. No. Shit."

"What."

"And he's not going to share?!"

" _What?"_

"Bro Code violation-"

_"Damn it all, McCall, what?"_

 

Scott held up a finger, and texted someone. Soon, his phone buzzed, and he picked it up.

 

"Yeah, Isaac-"

"THAT LITTLE SHIT IS MAKING CHEESE-CUPCAKES?!"

 

Derek's eyes widened. He'd never had one, but they sounded quite tasty.

 

"I know, right?"

"We have to nab a batch."

"Damn straight."

"I'm in, McCall."

 

Scott raised an eyebrow at Derek. Derek kept a stoic face, and raised an eyebrow as if daring him to refuse. Scott huffed in annoyance.

 

"Hale is onboard, Isaac."

"Sweet. He could be useful."

"Alright. You want in? Here's your job..."

\--------

Stiles tip-toed through the front door, looking left and right. The house _seemed_ quiet enough. But he knew better. The fact that he was bullied on a near-constant basis gave him a pretty good sense of when danger was near. Like a spidey-sense of sorts. He had been shopping for ingredients ( _thank you,_ Derek) when he got a sense that he was being watched. A quick scan showed no one, but he was sure of it. No suspicious cars in the parking lot, though, either.

 

But he knew something was up. It was his turn to make snacks for Movie Night tonight, and he was planning on making Cheese-Cupcakes. Scott was extremely efficient when it came to desserts, and he went from lovable, earnest idiot to ruthless, cunning soldier whenever he was trying to sneak some. He had perfected the art of utensil defense in retaliation.

 

So he _was sure_ Scott was up to something. He just knew it.

 

"Stiles."

 

Stiles nearly jumped. Of course Derek was a silent ninja. He could add that onto his already impressive arsenal of threatening qualities.

 

"Jeez, Derek! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"What's in the bag."

"Question marks; use them. And stuff for Movie Night."

"What are you making?"

 

Stiles stiffened minutely. If Derek saw the chocolate in the bottom of his bag, he'd be just as bad as Scott. And it'd be worse because he would _give them to him. Willingly._ Because he was hopeless like that.

 

"Nothing. Just some fruit. Maybe I'll make a fruit bowl."

 

Derek looked unimpressed, but he left. Hm. Maybe he was getting better at hiding things.

\----

"He's a shitty liar."

"I know. He has so many tells his tells have tells."

 

_*Hes unpacking the stuf*_

_*Keep out of sight.*_

_*I only cracked open the door a bit*_

_*Be careful.*_

 

"Isaac is in position. He's going to be the eyes. He'll give the signal when it's time to move. Jackson is the lookout in case re-enforcements show up. I'm the grabber. And you are...?"

"I know, Scott. I'm the getaway driver."

"Yes you are. Now get down."

\-----

Stiles had been working for a while. The chocolate chip, cocoa-drizzle, caramel, and Oreo crumble cupcakes were done, chilled and in a Tupperware container in the fridge. He just had to finish the fruit ones and he was done.

 

"Caramel."

"Cocoa-drizzle."

"Caramel."

"No. Cocoa-drizzle."

"Just take the damn Caramel! I called the cocoa-drizzle first!"

_"Cocoa-drizzle."_

_"Caramel."_

 

_*I want Oreo crumble*_

_*I KNOW >:(*_

_*T.T"_

_"Jeez. Sorry, Isaac.*_

_*It's cool, puppy. Just kiss it better when we get home ;)*_

 

Scott sighed. His boyfriend was such an adorable perv. And he told him not to call him that. He rolled his eyes back to Derek.

 

"Look, fine. I'll give you three Caramel for three cocoa-drizzle."

 

Derek gave a curt nod. He was such a chocolate whore; Scott could have kicked him off the mission if he wasn't the best driver and didn't drive the fastest car.

\-----

Stiles had his back turned, slicing the fruit on the counter. Isaac held his breath, and texted Scott.

 

_*Autobots, roll out.*_

 

Scott nodded, and stood up a little higher.

 

_*Is it all clear?*_

* _Front yard secure*_

 

Derek nodded and grabbed his keys out of his pocket. He strolled downstairs, and gave Stiles a peck on the cheek.

 

"I'm going out for a bit. I'll see you later if you're still here."

"Alright."

 

Derek watched as Isaac crept slowly out of the pantry, and stiffened as he stumbled a little. Stiles raised an eyebrow, and before he could turn around and discover their spy, Derek grabbed him, and planted a deep kiss, thoroughly distracting him. This gave Isaac a chance to recover and dash silently out of the kitchen. He nuzzled Stiles' cheek for a second, and followed him out the front door.

 

Jackson nodded at them, and he also climbed into the car. The rest was up to Scott. 

 

_*Hale is in position. Front yard clear. If you're gonna do it, do it now*_

 

Scott rolled his shoulders, and crept along the wall. He almost started humming the Mission Impossible Theme Song. He had reached the corner when he spotted it. Two Tupperware containers equivalent to two dozen varied Cheese-Cupcakes. Stiles was washing some more of the fruit, which was prime opportunity. He counted down in his head. 3...2...1...

 

He dashed as quietly as he could, and grabbed both containers. The minute Stiles heard the squeak of his sneakers upon retreating, his face turned downright pissed-off.

 

"SCOTT McCALL! YOU PUT THOSE DOWN THIS INSTANT OR I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY-"

 

Scott wasn't listening, to busy dodging the various utensils Stiles had started throwing. And because Stiles is Stiles, he stepped on a puddle that one of his wet impromptu weapons left behind, and slipped. He growled in fury, screaming profanity, because there was no way in hell that he was catching the lacrosse star now. He was going to have to start all over.

 

Scott laughed victoriously as he ran out the door, and jumped into the Camaro. He hadn't even put his seatbelt on before they were on the way to Scott and Isaac's place. He ripped open one of the containers, and cackled evilly.

 

This. This would do _very nicely._

 

(Isaac was kind of freaked out/turned on by this side of Scott, to be honest.)

\-----

_*I hope you enjoyed them, Sourwolf, because you are **not** sleeping with me any time soon. Better get yourself a doggie bed.*_

 

(He was on the couch for a week, but then Stiles got lonely in the bed by himself. Derek wasn't poking fun, he had missed Stiles too.)

\-----

THE END.

 

 

 

 


End file.
